Only the Children Weep
by Laugh.While.Crying
Summary: "In his five years of life, Severus Snape had seen more than some wizards four times his age had." For as long as he could remember, his parents have fought. One-Shot


**Only the Children Weep**

**By: LaughWhileCrying**

_Disclaimer: This is a fan-made story and I, in no way, claim rights to the Harry Potter franchise with it. All rights to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No Copyright infringment is intended._

_Rating: T (For mild refrences to alcohol, abuse, other adult themes, and mild language.)_

_Summary: "'In his five years of life, Severus Snape had seen more than some wizards four times his age had.' For as long as he could remember, his parents have fought."_

_A/N: This is a Snape-Childhood-Story. I personally love the character of Severus Snape. I find him tragic and intriguing, and I really don't think he had a particulary good childhood. I see him as a mockingbird. (If you have read _To Kill a Mockingbird, _you will most likely understand what I mean). Anyway, enjoy this story and don't forget to review!_

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**"They've done it before and they'll do it again and when they do it - seems that only the children weep. Good night." **  
**― Harper Lee, _To Kill a Mockingbird_**

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In his five years of life, Severus Snape had seen more than some wizards four times his age had. He had experienced hunger, poverty, pain, and fear. As he grew, he taught himself to keep up a wall, to block it all out. At the tender age of five he was already quiet, cold, and calculating. Virtually nothing was able to faze or scare him.

But this – this was terrifying.

He would have thought that he would be used to it – the screaming and yelling, the crashes, clatters, and slams. But he wasn't. Frankly, he didn't think he'd ever be.

_Why do mummy and father fight, _he wondered, huddled under the thin covers of his bed as his parents voiced their disgust for the other below him. He sniffled, tiny, pale hands intertwining with the uncomfortably thin sheet protecting him. He tucked his head in-between his knees, praying with all his childlike might that the fighting would stop.

Then, like magic, there was silence.

_Have they stopped? Is it safe to go downstairs?_

The sound of breaking glass, attempting to break the stalemate in the argument, travelled upstairs. The screaming resumed, more intense than ever.

Severus sighed. He should have guessed. The yelling did not normally stop until father stormed out of the house and drove off. Later he would come back, stumbling and smelling of some foul and unidentifiable substance. Mummy would usher Severus back to his room quickly, somehow knowing where her husband had been (despite her insistence that she had no idea when her son would question it). Severus would scurry back to his room, lock the door and hide from the noise that would soon come.

The shouting would not stop until late into the night.

Their screeches terrified Severus, but he was used to it. Not the screaming or the arguments, of course, but the routine of it all was normal. Wake up, listen to his parents argue. Play outside, listen to his parents argue. Eat dinner, listen to his parents argue. Get himself ready for bed, listen to his parents argue. It was normal, it was consistent, and it was his life.

He had, after all, known nothing else by this time in his young life.

Not that he enjoyed it.

Silence again swept across the small house on Spinner's End. Severus slowly crept out from under his covers, pressing his tiny ear up against the door and holding his breath, waiting for those beautiful sounds…

Keys jingled, a door slammed, and car made its way furiously down the driveway.

He sighed in relief. Father was gone for the day. He would not be back until later that night. _Will mummy be angry if I go downstairs? Father is gone, so it's safe, right?_

The five-year-old unlocked his bedroom door (with only a small amount of difficulty) and snuck quietly down the stairs on the off-chance that his father had not actually left. He could hear his mother venting to the air like she often did after a fight, something that he simply could not understand. Mummy and father had been fighting for at least two hours; what more could mummy possibly have to say?

Her voice grew louder as Severus approached the kitchen.

"…That muggle _bastard!_" his mummy hissed "Doesn't work…drinks all day…no respect…" Her voice lowered slightly, picking up a mocking tone. "'Eileen I slave for this feckin' family all day an' what do I get? A feckin' bitch fer a wife and a goddamn useless son!' He slaves all day, ha! He doesn't do shit. And we have no money to feed ourselves or our only son, but _somehow_ he has the money to buy a goddamn car! Oh when that good-for-nothing jacka-"

"Mummy?"

Eileen Snape spun on her heel to see Severus leaning up against the cabinet. He had snuck easily in, any sound he could have possibly made shadowed by his mummy's ranting.

"Severus!" his mother gasped in surprise. She had obviously not meant for her little boy to hear her talking to herself, not that he minded. He had heard worse from both of his parents' mouths. "Are you hungry, love? Would you like for me to fix you some supper?"

"Mummy, it's not even noon yet."

"Oh, yes," she stuttered. "Silly me, of course it's still morning. That's what I meant, of course. Would you care for some breakfast then, Sevie?"

Severus shuffled his feet on the cracking tile. "I already ate, mummy."

"You did? When was this?"

"This morning." He had, in fact, snuck into the kitchen in the beginning of the adults' argument, not knowing when it would end and not wanting to be hungry.

This surprised Eileen. Since when was her son able to fix his own breakfast? "Oh, really Sev? And what did you make yourself?"

"Bread and butter," he shrugged.

"And you-"

"Where's father, mummy?"

His mother froze, taken off guard. When she regained composure, her voice was just as sweet as before, but a prick of ice had wormed its way in. "I don't know, Severus."

"Yes you do."

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. To any other child his age, even many adults, the change in her demeanour would have gone unnoticed. But Severus had learned to recognize the signs and slightest shifts in her mood, going as far as to anticipate what each response to his (seemingly never-ending) childlike questioning would be.

"No, Severus," She said, her voice tighter and the sweetness just slightly more forced. "I do not know where your father is."

"Mummy, you do know."

"No, _Severus,_ I do _not _know where he is, alright?"

"Yes you do, mummy. It's not nice to lie." He braced himself for the explosion…

"Severus Tobias Snape, I will not be called a liar in my own house!" She hissed, leftover anger from her _disagreement_ (as she usually addressed it as) being taken out on Severus. "I don't know where your goddamn father is, nor does it concern you! So what if the arsehole wants to come back drunker than a sailor? So what if he spends all of our money at that pub on alcohol and women? So what if he's obviously sleeping around with those _younger, sexier_ looking women? I don't care, and you shouldn't care either!"

His mother gripped the edge of the counter tightly "And don't you dare ask one more time about it, boy! Merlin knows you'll regret it!"

Merlin? "Mummy, who is-?"

_Whack!_

Severus stumbled back in shock, his small cheek tingling slightly. His hand flew to the skin, fingertips ghosting over it, afraid to touch it.

Had mummy just..._hit_ him?

Severus's mother stormed out of the kitchen, not even bothering to spare a glance for her young son.

Severus did not cry, nor did his eyes prickle with heat from unshed tears. He did not dry sob or throw a tantrum like many other children would. He simply stood there, his tiny hand pressed up against his cheek. He didn't know what to do. Surely that could not have just been _his_ mummy that hit him. _His_ mummy played games with him, and made sure he had enough to eat, and told him fun, made-up stories about wizards, and always told him that she loved him.

_His_ mummy always protected him when father tried to hurt him.

_"Don't worry my Half-Blood Prince,"_ she always cooed at night. "_I won't ever let Tobias hurt you. I won't ever hurt you. You're safe Severus, you're treasured Severus, and you're oh so loved Severus..."_

_His _mummy had promised. This mummy was a stranger, and certainly not his mummy. It was the only solution his five-year-old mind could comprehend. Fathers hurt, but mummies love. Right?

_Right_, he thought. Determined to find out who _this _mummy was (as it quite obviously was not his mummy, but a strange woman), he followed her into the parlour where she sat on the shabby-looking couch, dark-coloured bottle in hand. Her eyes were closed but she did not look relaxed. Instead, her face was pinched up in frustration, her nose wrinkled as if she had smelled something foul. She was probably not used to living in this house, Severus deduced. He couldn't exactly blame the strange lady for staying tense in his home. It was exactly pretty. Or clean.

Severus crept slowly over to the woman's side, hoping not to frighten her lest she strike out again. Her eyes were still closed, but she took a long drink from the bottle, breathing in deeply. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

It worked, and Non-Mummy's eyes snapped open to the sound. She turned to face the five-year-old. Non-Mummy's eyes snapped open to the sound. She turned to face the five-year-old. Her beady black eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her son. "Oh," she said disdainfully. "It's you. What do you want, Severus?"

Severus fidgeted under her glare, suddenly nervous. "Um, well I...you...um..."

"Spit it out, child!" she snapped.

Severus jumped at her loud voice, terrified that she would hit him again. "Who are you?" He blurted out.

Non-Mummy stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "What do you mean, 'Who am I?'" she hissed. "Who do you think I am, Severus? Merlin, are you as stupid as your father?" She smacked the back of his head lightly. "There? Did that jog your memory, child? 'Who am I,' of all the stupid things you could possibly say! Maybe my mother was right, maybe I should have gotten the abortion; if I did, I certainly wouldn't be stuck in this muggle hell-hole, and I certainly wouldn't have to deal with you!"

Severus did not know what an abortion or a muggle was, but from the way his mother sneered it, he figured that it was not something nice. "Well, I was wondering because –"

"I don't care what your reasoning was, Severus. It doesn't matter to me. Just...go...play outside or something. Leave me be. I don't want to deal with you right now."

"But I –"

"Leave, Severus!"

Severus ran out of the house, thankful that he already had shoes on. He stood on the front steps of his porch, wondering what to do next. The Non-Mummy did not answer any of his questions, which left him curious and unsatisfied. However, fear of the Non-Mummy kept him from trying to ask again. This mummy terrified him; she was just like father when he was angry. And nothing petrified the young boy more than his father when he was angry.

He really hoped his mummy was okay, wherever she was.

As Severus didn't really have any friends (he didn't count the nice woman down the street who sometimes gave him books and biscuits) Severus had no idea what he was to do. Should he try to sneak back in the house and hope that the strange woman did not notice him? No, it was too risky. So, what now?

The playground was not too far from Spinner's End, so Severus decided to walk there. He hoped there would not be many children there. He looked up at the sky. It was filled with dark, angry clouds and looked as if it wanted to rain. _Perhaps I should have grabbed a jacket before going outside..._

Oh well, too late for that now.

The walk was short and a bit chilly, but the five-year-old Snape made it in one piece. Severus looked around the small park. It wasn't much; in fact, it was in a pitiful state from neglect and over use. It consisted of sand, a slide, and a set of four swings (two of which had been broken beyond repair yet still sat un-replaced). He walked over and sat down on one of the still functioning swings. There was not a single child in the area; not even that little redheaded girl and her sister, both of whom seemed to been there every day, were there.

He swung for a few minutes before the chilling feeling of loneliness began to creep in. Or maybe it was just the biting wind cutting into his bones. (That was another possible explanation, but it didn't sound as interesting to him.) Regardless, Severus leapt up from his seat and began to wander around.

His mind was racing, replaying everything that happened in his home. The entire encounter had taken - what? Ten minutes? Fifteen minutes? And how could his mummy just leave him with such a horrible lady? Wasn't father bad enough to deal with? Severus sighed deeply. Perhaps there was no use obsessing over it as he probably would end up with more questions than answers. And an unanswered question was not something that sat well with the five-year-old (his mummy always teased that he had the curiosity and intellect of an old man. He never really understood what that meant, but it had to be good, as she always smiled and kissed his forehead when she said it).

He had wandered around the park for quite some time before he felt the first raindrop. A few drops landed on his thin shirt before it began pouring. Thunder rumbled in the sky, but thankfully there was no lightning. He was cold and wet, but he didn't dare go home.

Instead, Severus ran. He ran as fast as his short legs could carry him into the nearby woods, knowing that the trees could offer him some shelter from the downpour.

By the time he had reached his favourite spot – a small meadow next to the river, surrounded by thick weeping willows that made it seem as if the rain wasn't even falling down – his legs and lungs were on fire. He was sopping wet, cold, and tired. The place was pretty secluded and hard to find, impossible if you didn't already know where it was, so taking a nap down would be pretty safe, Severus realized.

Severus looked down at his drenched body. He looked – and felt – much like a drowned cat. _Well, on the bright side, at least my hair won't be as dirty. Maybe now that I'm clean, some kids will want to play with me._ He slumped against one of the large trees, utterly exhausted from the day's events; especially as Mummy and Father had kept him awake all night with their arguing. Yes, perhaps a nap would be a very good thing.

He clung to the thin wet cotton shirt (which had once been his father's but had been stained. Severus had successfully saved it from the trash. It was still a good shirt after all, albeit a bit dirty) which acted as his blanket. Not that it did much to keep him warm but it was something right?

Severus rested his head against the thick bark and closed his eyes, swiftly falling asleep.

Hopefully _his _mummy would have returned by the time he woke up.

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This particular story actually took a long time to write. I think I started this about a week or two after I published _A Mother's Love. _Funnily enough, over the weeks, this story turned into something completely different than what I had originally planned. At first, this was going to be a "Snape-see-Lily-Evans-for-the-first-time" story, but it morphed into this :)

I have no editor (other than myself), so por favor, if you see any spelling or grammatical errors, I would be grateful if you were to point them out in a review. Even if you don't see any, please decrease World Suck by leaving a review! I welcome flames to roast my marshmellows on!

If you live in the United States, Happy early Independence day!

Until my next story,

LaughWhileCrying

(Also, to all of you who have reviewed my storied, are following me ,and/or have added my to your favorites: Thank you ever so much. People like you keep me inspired to write and let me know that I don't suck as much as I feel like I do. You are all amazing people! ^_^)


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